Distortions
by My Chaotic Demise
Summary: (I do not own POTO) Amber Daae did not have the will to coninue on in her pitiful excuse for a life until she picked up that book. Phantom of the Opera. It changed her life forever. Now once what had been a simple story has become her reality. But is her reality true or some distortion of a twisted dream? Has Amber truly met and found her Angel of Music?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is unlike any other, I'm sure a few girls out there have wanted their "Angel of Music" to come. Reiew and tell me your thoughts so this piece can be everything you've ever imagined!**

**(Can't get the linebreak in...)**

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_**Chapter One**_

Amber Daae was tearing through the book of the Phantom of the Opera. She couldn't stop reading. Everything seemed to fade as she was suddenly put inside the Angel of Music's world, wrapping in safety. She finished, and sighed, closing the book with disappointment. She walked stiffly to her bathroom, studying herself in the mirror. She could see resemblances of Christine; they had the same last name, long curly chestnut hair, almond brown eyes. She smiled and ran a hand through her hair. But that smile faded as she looked at her skin. Blemishes, scars, ran all along her skin, and she was disgusted with the thought of comparing that to Christine's porcelain face. No amount of make-up could fix that, she knew, because she had already tried. She removed her clothes, seeing the dozens of scars and claw-like marks from years of misuse. She had a nice figure, and would've looked pretty despite her skin. She smiled and she realized she had that in common with Erik. People thought she looked like a monster, too. She was born from a mother killing her sorrows with drugs and alcohol and a father that had left before Amber was even born, so no "civilized" or "proper" child her age was permitted to socialize with her. She frowned but then smiles when she pictured Erik behind the mirror, pleased at the sight of her, watching her, singing softly to her.

Cleaned up, she slid into her clean clothes for the day, a soft, flowing green dress and a simple pair of white sandals, a bit worn. She let her hair down, imagining Erik playing with the curls. She left the small dingy house, and went to the hell hole people dared call a school. The usual day went onwards though: boys mocking her as she walked to class, making fake advances so that when she took offence they could laugh, girls turning up their noses at her sneering, and the teachers ignoring her during the lessons except when they had no choice but help her. She was fine with that, though, more time to think of Erik, her single thought throughout the day. What if he was real? What would he do to the teasing boys and the judging girls? About the mother that didn't care? Would he find her beautiful? Would he love her? Would he even care? Amber's head was spinning with these questions, almost to the point of being dazed. She was practically gasping for air, and after four hours into the day she went to the bathroom. Of course he would love you: she thought. Just like you would love him, just like how you ALREADY love him. You would be what Christine never was for him, the safe place where he was loved. She wrapped her arms around herself, imagining his embraces, and flashed "him" a smile in the mirror before leaving. She kept getting teased throughout the day, but every time it bugged her, she imagined him singing softly to her, of lullabies and sweet opera music, whispering words of comfort. She stayed calm and stayed out of fights. When she walked home, she became lost in thoughts of Erik, a smile playing on her lips when she pictured him walking with her, sharing the stares and words that were exchanged behind her back. She could even feel his arm around her protectively, whispering to her. "You will never be harmed again, I will protect you." The image was suddenly broken as she slammed into the ground from someone shoving her. Her bag rolled over; too far to reach as she cursed her scraped knees, bleeding. She whipped her head around, not finding her Angel to soothe her this time. She glared at miss popular, Monica, and her gang of friends. She almost laughed at their caked faces of makeup. "What do you want?" She barked at them... Her anger flared up like a hot molten lake of lava, but the thought of Erik touching her shoulder made her take a deep breath and calm down. She stood slowly, menacingly, the way Erik would, and her eyes remained cold, "Why can't you just leave me be?" she asked in a growl. She pictured Erik smiling approvingly and studying the gang with cold eyes.

Monica laughed, it was a tinkling of bells, and she was perfect. She had pin straight blonde hair and deep blue eyes, perfectly unmarred skin and a perfect body and perfect wardrobe and perfect, perfect, fucking perfection! Something Amber could _never_ be; and that infuriated Amber more than anything! Why did this vile creature have to be so beautiful! She didn't deserve the beauty that God had graced her with!


	2. Author's Note

Sorry but I can't continue this story. I am making a new version of this called Distorted Me.


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